Beautiful
by VacuumTan
Summary: Right there was everything beautiful in the world, everything he ever longed for, everything he ever loved. He could reach out to her. He could. But he was way too far gone to do such a thing, way too soaked in his own, dirty self.


"Boyish", they called her.

Some even went as far as mistaking her for a male at first.

But for that particular faux-pas, he could never be accounted for. No matter how beaten-up or worn-out she might have looked, she always held that elegant, feminine grace, that strange, yet beautiful aura only the most lovely of girls possessed.

Yes, to him, she was the most stunningly gorgeous girl in the world.

Her cute little button-nose, right in the middle of her face- wrinkling when she let the room be bathed in the light of her rare smiles, freckling ever so slightly in the unbearable sun in the summer.

Her elegantly arched eyebrows- never quite trimmed, yet given a perfect natural shape. Ever underlining her various expressions, making even her rage shine, her tears so much more bitter, her apathy so much less apathetic and, of course, her smiling face so much more worth fighting for.

Then, her lips- thin at first glance, but so plump and full when relaxed. Light pink and bitten on, small rivers of bloody cracks randomly scattered about them. A pronounced cupid's bow and a cushion-like bottom lip, so cute when used for pouting.

Her high cheek-bones, pale skin on them like expensive silk, gently pulling in for her slightly sharp, yet still rounded, chin, making the ensemble of her facial features look even more exclusive and graceful.

On her head sat a cascade of green- a bleached out colour, reminiscent of wrongly blonde-dyed hair. Or, as he deemed it quite a fitting description, the dried-up green of slightly burnt grass in the summer. For he knew, as a matter of fact, that her hair felt a lot like straw, since she never really took care of it, her ever long and messily chopped off fringe a constant reminder. And yet, even her split ends seemed to hold some kind of neglective beauty he couldn't really put a finger on.

And, finally, those eyes. Surrounded by long dark lashes, making up that wide almond shape, were her eyes- sometimes glowing that familiar red, brighter than anything, making her disappear. The red colour that she hated, the red colour that he, too, was not fond of. The red colour that held dark secrets and memories of death and pain and the red colour that had always caused even more pain. The red colour that sometimes ate up those pools of a brown so dark that it looked black- so tired, so worn, so done with the world. Seeing emotion- really, any emotion- spark in them made him happy. For, when she looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears of rage, he was sure that, yes, she was still alive inside.

From her face extended her slender neck, seamlessly running into her equally slim shoulders. Her physique had always been very light, ever the feminine one. Her collar-bone had become so pronounced when she got older- with the ends of her long hair grazing it, it truly was a sight to behold.

Below that, always hidden beneath that wide hoodie of hers, was her chest- having grown over the years, even in her baggy clothing one could make out her small, yet youthfully sweet little bosom, sitting above her ribcage.

Her hips were slim. She was so very thin, they were not even really pronounced. Only a slight dip in her side indicated the feminine build of that part of her body. Her stomach as well was as flat as it could be- though she was self-concious about having a 'lack' in the area of curves, she never really bothered to try to change that. Though, if he were to deny his nature and be truthful, he found her petite build somewhat cute. Yes, it just suited her, somehow, even though she, at her height, looked a bit awkward, like someone had stretched her and she just became a little too slim.

Her legs were long and smooth- though one could hardly see anything but the lower thigh of her right leg. But that was alright, since the occasions when she wore real shorts (though they were still boys' shorts, much to his dismay) were rare and one could and should indulge in the sight for as long as possible.

Her arms, too, were long and slim. But even better were her hands- comically small palms and elegant, long pianist fingers, chewed on and dirtied nails and scars from punches and cuts all over her knuckles. Sometimes he thought her hands looked like spiders with five legs. That idea made him chuckle, for when he saw her fumble around with something nimbly, he was reminded of it each time.

But well, if he really were to decide what he liked most about her, he wouldn't be able to decide. While she was, at least to him, physically perfect, maybe it was just that she had grown on him for the past seven, eight, nine, ten years.

She had remained timid- only nowadays, she was trying to cover it with a tough act. He had, of course seen through it. He knew her too well not to notice that. Yet, her arrogance was something he didn't quite like- it made her lose her temper quickly and regard everyone, including him, obviously, as idiots. And yet, she could be so gentle. She could reach out her hand to anyone without thinking and took care of their little group without really noticing herself.

Yes, it probably was just the fact that she was herself that made him like her. And, somehow, her name had always been a prediction- not her last name, no, her given name- a name that suited her, he noticed after all these years:

Tsubomi- a flower bud.

A small green thing, not looking overly pretty. That is, until spring nears its end- then, it will open up to reveal the prettiest of flowers, blooming in a frail kind of beauty that could be wiped away by the wind any second.

Maybe that thought wasn't right after all. She was strong, with both her feet planted firmly on the ground. There was no way she would lose only a single one of her petals and he knew that. And yet, he still found that little metaphor fitting.

He smiled and looked at the sleeping girl on the sofa in front of him.

Right there was everything beautiful in the world, everything he ever longed for, everything he ever loved. He could reach out to her. He could. But he was way too far gone to do such a thing, way too soaked in his own, dirty self.

He'd only taint her and hurt her.

And that made his twisted little heart ache.

* * *

**A/N: GOOD-BYE, WRITER'S BLOCK!**

**Several tens of kilometres away, Anna is pumping her fist in the air because I wrote something hetero. EVEN THOUGH SHE KEEPS MIXING UP KANO AND KIDO.**

**Also, Yuukei Yesterday. Dear God. All my ships. Take them. Take them and use them good. And the Konoha Chibi is just too adorable. Shidu-san must've had a lot of fun doing that. Takane is his favourite female character, too, right?**

**The cover is from... somewhere. I found it on Zerochan. Go look for it if you want it.**


End file.
